<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Princess Goes to a Ball by DesertVixen</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197566">The Princess Goes to a Ball</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen'>DesertVixen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lost Princess [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:07:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The new Royal Family goes to a ball...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Crown Princess Who Was A Starving Writer In Her Former Life/Faraway King Who's A Fan Of Her Books</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lost Princess [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic In A Box</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Princess Goes to a Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/gifts">vendettadays</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last month had been crazier than she could have ever imagined, Cecily Damacek – once Cecily St.Clair – mused as she sat in her dressing room.  The news that the family members who had stood between her father and the Karalovskan crown had been wiped out, being whisked away from her life in America, taking up the mantle of Crown Princess of Karalovska – all of it had been more fantastic than any of the novels she had written.  </p><p>She had not really had time to check out the castle for any hidden passages, she thought with a grin, since it seemed like she spent ninety percent of her time in a meeting of some sort, learning about the country they had been away from for so long.  Twenty-three years ago, her parents had been forced to leave when her – well, not *wicked* but certainly not very pleasant – uncle ascended to the throne after her grandfather died.  Twenty-three years ago, any modernization that had started in their tiny kingdom had been forcibly halted by a man who didn’t think changes needed to be made.  They had even gone so far as to ask the American military to leave their small naval base.  More importantly, relations between Karalovska and their nearest neighbor, Demetria, had soured.  </p><p>Cecily wasn’t sure why her uncle Phillip had chosen to essentially withdraw into the past, but she intended to make reversing it her life’s work.  There was potential here in Karalovska, so much potential.  A month ago, one of her cousins – the second son of her second uncle – had decided that he was tired of being just a noble in a backwater country, and instead of leaving Karalovska, he had decided to cut the succession down to size.  A series of poisonings and some terrorist acts had taken out the king and queen, as well as their two children, her second uncle and all three of his children, including the impatient one.  Her grandmother, the Queen Dowager Penelope, and her aunt, Princess Marie, had somehow managed to escape death.  </p><p>Enter the lost prince – her father.  Well, they hadn’t been lost so much as forgotten in America, living under a false last name and managing to stay under the radar.  Now, she was sure that various elements had been keeping tabs om her, but after leaving the only home she had ever known at the age of five, Cecily had adapted.  She’d gone to college, studied history, started teaching high schoolers all the dates they would probably not remember in ten years.</p><p>She had also become a novelist, writing modern fairy tales.  Cecily had based them in part on remembered scraps of Karalovska, transforming the things she heard her parents talk about into vivid fantasies where everyone lived happily ever after.</p><p>Her published and agent were thrilled at the news.  Finding out that a successful author of modern fairy tales also happened to be an actual princess?  That was the sort of public relations that you simply couldn’t buy.  At least she had been able to parley that into an extension on her next deadline. They were already planning to reissue all of her books with new cover art playing up the princess angle.</p><p>Her alma mater, the University of Michigan, was enjoying the story as well.  A picture of her arriving in Karalovska, wearing her Michigan hoodie and a crown of roses, had gone out on the wire services.  She had rather enjoyed that one.  She hoped that it helped show she was still a normal person, even if she was a princess.  </p><p>When she wasn’t in meetings, she had traveled over every square inch of the kingdom, and what she saw was dismaying.  The country had no energy resources like oil or gas, relying mostly on hydropower from their numerous rivers.  Cecily thought looking into solar power might bear some fruit, but she would have to argue with her father on that one.  Karalovska had a generally warm, sunny climate, and the beaches weren’t too shabby.  There were vineyards and some other crops, including a fairly healthy rose-growing industry that she hoped to encourage by wearing them at every opportunity.  She planned to have her portrait painted in them as well.  </p><p>Her father Edward – now King Edward – would hopefully have a decent reign of his own, but he had asked Cecily to handle the modernization aspects.  Her plans had to be approved, of course, but she enjoyed working with her father.  Her brother Charles and his wife Stephanie, also both teachers, were focusing their efforts on the sad state of the Karalovskan school system.  Her teenage sister Christiana – the only one of them born in America – was doing her part on Instagram, showing off herself and her exasperated security detail on Karalovskan beaches. </p><p>Tonight, however, was to be their first formal event.  The king of Demetria was making a state visit, and she was going to her first royal ball.  </p><p><i>Well</i>, she thought with a smile, her first ball unless you counted the one she’d snuck into at age four in her nightgown with her stuffed cat. It was one of the memories she cherished.  Her parents and her uncle had been apologetic, but her grandfather had insisted on a dance with his favorite princess.</p><p>Being whirled around by her grandfather was one of the nicest memories she’d had of him – and one of the last.  Shortly after, he had died, and they had been forced to leave Karalovska because her uncle was still upset about Cecily’s father breaking his engagement that would have linked him and one of their most powerful families to marry a commoner.</p><p>The door opened, and Cecily looked up to see Sophie entering.  Sophie Lacy was her oldest and best friend – it was Sophie’s mother who had helped Cecily’s mother Eleanor have her Cinderella moment, and had later gone into American exile with them.  In another era, Sophie would have been her lady-in-waiting.  Now, she was Cecily’s chief of staff, in charge of all the details.  </p><p>“That Drusilla is like a dragon,” Sophie said, blowing out her breath.  “I can only imagine what old Lady Trevor must have been like.  Anyway, I asked the kitchen staff to send us up some snacks so we can nibble on something to take the edge off while we get dressed for tonight.”</p><p>“What’s she up to now?”  Drusilla Perrin was now-Queen Eleanor’s secretary, and had been one of the wicked stepsisters in Eleanor’s personal Cinderella story.  She wasn’t truly wicked – at least Cecily didn’t think so.  Drusilla was, however, obsessed with propriety.</p><p>Sophie rolled her eyes.  “She wanted to make sure you knew which fork to eat with.  I informed her we were raised in America, not by wolves.”</p><p>The door opened again, and two of the royal stylists entered.  Gone were the days of doing their own hair and makeup, at least for an event like this.  At least she could still have a good gossip with her best friend while they got pampered.</p><p>“How are the preparations for tonight?”  </p><p>“Everything is coming along smoothly.  Your chief of security is fretting over all the details, but I don’t think there are any real problems.”</p><p>“I’m sure you would know,” Cecily murmured.  Blazej Novotny, the chief of her security detail, was a reasonable enough man, who understood that she wasn’t used to living in a fishbowl.  She tried not to cause too many headaches; he tried to explain in advance what was going on.  He and Sophie had also formed something of a relationship, natural enough for people in their roles. </p><p>It was totally natural, after all, to catch one’s chief of staff and one’s security chief kissing each other completely senseless.</p><p>Sophie only grinned.  “I do my best for you, your highness.”</p><p>Cecily laughed.  “You face down so many hardships for me.”</p><p>***</p><p>Dominic relaxed in his guest suite, listening to Caroline fuss in the background.  So far, his trip to Karalovska was going nicely.  His meeting with King Edward had been a productive one, and they would be signing the trade agreement tomorrow morning in a public ceremony.  </p><p>Now, of course, there was the first state gala since Edward’s rather subdued coronation.  A formal dinner, followed by dancing, although at least here he didn’t have to worry about Caroline marching a lineup of appropriate Demetrian women past him for approval.  Instead, he faced another sort of duty – the required dances, as befitted a visiting king.  This time, however, he was actually looking forward to the dinner, as he was hoping to spend some time with Crown Princess Cecily.</p><p>His black-tie was perfect, as usual, with what Caroline and his valet deemed an appropriate amount of decorations.  He rather preferred the simple suit he’d worn earlier, especially since he and Edward had discarded jackets and loosened ties as soon as they were alone.  No point in not being comfortable while they worked.</p><p>“Sire?”  Caroline’s tone informed him that it was time to stop woolgathering and get his act together.  She wore her own uniform, of sorts – a sedate hunter green ballgown with lace cap sleeves and a moderate A-line skirt, the order of Svata Ekaterina pinned over her heart in a blaze of glittering gold and blood red ribbon.  Her black hair was dressed in an elegant chignon, and her emerald tiara – green for Demetria, of course – was tucked in the smooth sweep of hair.  She looked utterly and completely correct, and not for the first time, Dominic wondered if his chief of staff ever just had fun.</p><p>He suspected the answer was no.</p><p>He must have looked lost in thought, because she touched his sleeve gently.  “Sire?”</p><p>Dominic shook his head.  “Sorry, Caroline.  You look elegant as usual.”  He knew better than to ask her if she ever just had fun, because of course her answer would be yes.  She was the one woman who had never thrown herself at him, and probably the woman he trusted most, after his own mother.</p><p>“You do as well, Sire.”  On occasions like this, she refused to use his first name, lest someone think she was getting overly familiar with the king.  “We are supposed to meet the royal family in their private parlor, then move to the formal dining room.  After dinner, there will be a brief interlude, and then the party will move to the State Ballroom for dancing.  There will be a reception line.  More people have been invited for that portion of the evening, but the dinner is only family and close advisors.”</p><p>He nodded as they followed the Karalovskan footman in his midnight blue and silver livery.  “Hopefully this will be the first of many such events.”</p><p>“That would be best, I believe.  Relations between our countries have been strained for too long, and we would be more powerful together.  Perhaps we could see about timing a state visit to coincide with our Winter Festival?”</p><p>“I think that would be an excellent suggestion.”</p><p>*** </p><p>“Not too shabby, I must say,” Cecily said as she studied her reflection in the mirror.  She had to admit that getting dressed for a ball appealed to her inner princess, and there was something to be said for having her own dressmaker.  This ballgown – her first real ballgown -  was midnight blue, with a not-too-daring strapless bodice covered in midnight blue sequins that spilled unevenly onto the unashamed yards and yards of skirt.  There actually was a strap on one side, to make it easier to wear her order of Saint Pelagia on an ivory sash.  The order itself was an ornate silver and sapphire brooch that harmonized with her gown, named for the kingdom’s patron saint.  Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a low chignon, with one single curl artfully allowed to escape, with red Karalovskan roses pinned in her hair in lieu of a tiara.  She wore a corsage of them as well, and the ballroom would be liberally decorated with them.  The dark colors became her fair skin and hazel eyes well.</p><p>And, as befitted Cinderella’s daughter, she had fabulous shoes, midnight blue peep-toe heels decorated with midnight blue crystals, and blue ribbons that fastened at the ankle.  No way she would lose a shoe tonight.</p><p>She spun in front of the mirror, and Sophie laughed.  Her friend had gone a little less fairy tale princess, although she also wore dark blue.  Her dark blonde curls tumbled to her shoulders, and her dark blue eyes matched the sapphire tiara she wore.</p><p>“We need to get down to the parlor,” Sophie said after a moment.  “The last thing we want is a lecture from Drusilla.”</p><p>Cecily nodded.  “Let’s head down, then.”</p><p>*** </p><p>“His Majesty, King Dominic V of Demetria,” intoned the royal butler as the Demetrian party was ushered into the parlor.  </p><p>Edward stood.  “Allow me to introduce you to our family,” he said, coming forward to meet Dominic.  “My queen, Eleanor.”</p><p>The queen was a quietly lovely woman who wore a modest and exquisitely simple midnight blue dress.  She came to stand by her husband, confident and poised.  “Good evening, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Please, call me Dominic.  The last thing I want is to be “Your Majesty”-ed all through dinner.</p><p>She smiled at him.  “Only if you will address me as Eleanor.  I’m afraid part of me still looks for my mother-in-law when someone says Your Majesty to me.”</p><p>“Of course,” he told her, lifting her hand to his lips.  “I do hope that relations between our two nations will become rapidly more cordial.”</p><p>“My children,” Edward continued.  “Crown Princess Cecily, Prince Charles and his wife, Stephanie, and Princess Christiana.  My mother, the Queen Dowager Penelope.”</p><p>Edward continued making introductions, but Dominic admitted that he was only halfway paying attention as he looked at the Crown Princess.  She had been quite attractive when he’d seen her arrival in Karalovska in casual clothes, but in her midnight blue ballgown she was stunning, from the roses in her hair to the flash of sparkle at her feet.  He forced himself to get his attention back on business, but was quite pleased when he discovered he was to be seated between the Queen and the Crown Princess.</p><p>Following the rules of etiquette, he conversed with Eleanor about her memories of Demetria before the split, and was delighted to discover that the entire family was missing winter.</p><p>“I’m afraid we’ve gotten quite used to Midwestern winters and getting snowed in,” Eleanor told him.  “Well, I think Christiana is enjoying going to the beach in November.”</p><p>“Demetria does have more variance in climate, since we extend further inland.  I was thinking earlier that perhaps we could arrange for a state visit to coincide with Demetria’s Winter Festival.”</p><p>When the soup was removed and the first course served, Dominic found he finally had a chance to speak with Cecily.</p><p>“I confess, I have been looking forward very much to meeting you,” Dominic told her.  </p><p>“Oh?” She smiled at him as she speared a piece of roast chicken.</p><p>“Yes, I’m a huge Cecily St.Clair fan,” he said softly.  “I’ve read all of your books, much to the dismay of my chief of staff.”</p><p>She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “You…you’ve read my books?”</p><p>“And I love them,” he told her with a smile.  “They’re my escape.  I admit I had a suspicion that the author must have some familiarity with royal life, but I never would have guessed she was an actual princess.”</p><p>“They’re my escape, as well,” she told him.  “I used to fiddle with the stories in between teaching history classes.  I assure you, I had no expectation of actually becoming a real princess…again.” </p><p>They chatted lightly, something that Cecily enjoyed.  Her novels hadn’t been published in her home country yet (although she planned to change that) but the fact that an actual king was a fan of her writing was something she could scarcely believe.</p><p>*** </p><p>There was a brief pause between the dinner and dancing segments of the evening.  The men adjourned to a very masculine lounge for cocktails (Edward had banned smoking in one of his less popular decisions) while the women retreated to freshen their appearances.</p><p>When they rejoined the men, it was time to move to the ballroom and form the receiving line.  This was the part of a fancy evening that Dominic truly detested, standing in a line while any number of people paid their respects and headed to the bar.  Perhaps that was why the men got to have cocktails first, although it was a little unfair for the ladies.</p><p>As guest of honor, of course, he was at the head of the line, with Edward and Eleanor, Cecily and Charles.  Stephanie was nowhere to be seen, and Christiana had been given permission to simply join the party.</p><p>It seemed like they stood there for hours, smiling and nodding and making pleasant if repetitive chitchat.  Finally, there were no more guests.  An older woman in a truly unflattering green ballgown chivvied them into the ballroom and informed them that the formal dances – duty dances, as Dominic always thought of them – would begin in fifteen minutes, if they wished to refresh themselves.</p><p>He was amused to find that he would not be dancing first with the Queen.  Edward gave him a slight smile.  “I do hope you won’t mind us shaking things up again, but I prefer to dance with my wife first.  Surely the king should get his way every now and then.”</p><p>“I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Dominic assured him with a grin.  That decision meant that all the ladies on his dance card would move up a slot – meaning he would open the dancing with Crown Princess Cecily.</p><p>***</p><p>Of all the things she had experienced since her return to Karalovska, this was the one she was somehow looking forward to the most.  King Dominic certainly fit the bill to be one of her heroes – tall, dark and handsome.  He was also obviously intelligent and well-read – after all, he liked her books – and he was definitely appealing.  She had seen his official portrait, of course, but that portrait didn’t do him justice.</p><p>“I believe this is our dance,” he said, walking up to her.</p><p>“Hopefully not the only one,” she said softly.  She was a princess, who was going to dance with a handsome prince – okay, a handsome king – and everyone was going to watch.</p><p>“How long is your list of duty dances?”</p><p>His question made her sign.  “Probably as long as yours.  Still, they can’t take all evening.”</p><p>“That’s the spirit.”  They took their places on the floor with her parents, and her brother Charles with the highest-ranking female guest.  “Where is Princess Charles?”</p><p>“I imagine she is up in the royal nursery with my niece.  They have a toddler, Cassandra.  Plus, Stephanie is not quite on board with all of the changes.”</p><p>“It must be rough on her,” Dominic commented.</p><p>“None of us expected this.  But they can hardly return to the States while he’s second in line for the crown.”</p><p>The music began then, a stately swelling waltz based on the Karalovskan anthem, and the three pairs moved through the figures gracefully.</p><p>“You’re doing quite well, Your Highness” Dominic commented as they completed a turn.</p><p>“I had dancing lessons as a little girl, and I’ve been practicing this week,” she confessed.  “You’re making it quite easy, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“You really must call me Dominic,” he said with a dazzling smile.</p><p>“Only if you’ll address me as Cecily,” she returned.  This moment was better than any fairy tale she had written.</p><p>“I would like that very much,” he said.</p><p>She knew the cameras were rolling and this moment would be going out all over the world.  At the same time, it was almost as if they were the only two people in the ballroom – or in the world.</p><p>When the music ended, she looked up at him.  “Find me later?”</p><p>“I promise,” he said, dropping one of her hands as they turned to face the ballroom, then bowed.</p><p>*** </p><p>Cinderella might have danced all night in her glass slippers, but Cecily was beginning to be a little tired of it.  She had apparently finally danced with every person who expected  a dance with the Crown Princess Cecily.  Now she wanted a cold Dr. Pepper and five minutes of peace and quiet.  </p><p>A quick word with one of the waiters got her the first, in a solid champagne flute so that no one could see her indulging in a guilty pleasure.  The second seemed next to impossible.  As soon as she sat down, someone wanted to talk to her, even in the ladies’ withdrawing room.  </p><p>“You seem to be holding up well,” Dominic commented as he materialized by her side.</p><p>“My feet beg to differ,” Cecily said as she took his arm.  “I’m starting to question why exactly it was that the twelve dancing princesses wanted to dance all night.”</p><p>There was a blank look on his face, and she giggled.  “I guess maybe that fairy tale isn’t a popular one here.  I’ve never written it, for sure.”</p><p>“Hopefully you aren’t entirely tired of dancing?”  Dominic asked her hopefully.  “Midnight isn’t for another hour or so.”</p><p>She lifted her skirt slightly to show him the ribbons tying her shoes on.  “I’m not worried about losing a shoe as I run away.  And it’s not like it would be hard for you to find me in my own palace.”</p><p>“I’d like to find you again,” he said firmly.  “Maybe for breakfast?”</p><p>“I would like that.  Bring your favorite Cecily St.Clair book, if you like, and I’ll sign it for you,” she teased as they began dancing again.</p><p>“It sounds like a date,” he said.  </p><p>When they were finally done dancing, he lifted her hand to his lips.  “Until tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Until tomorrow morning.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you're still enjoying it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>